There are not many better places to write in this world. I'm sitting on a log with trees around me, a deep blue sky, a lake in the background, no noise except our voices.

One thing I haven’t written about is that hiking with a pack in a high altitude setting is hard work. I’m slow, slower than slow, slower than the slowest. It gets discouraging at times. It gets discouraging to be the slowest of the slow. The packs are heavier than heavy. The back hurts, feet and toes hurt. Lungs are gasping for air, sucking the pine needles off the trees like Cam said so perfectly. Throat is dry from sucking the air, so dry that to swallow makes you sick. Meanwhile after hiking for what seems so long one finds that they are only ½ way there. Covered in dust from the trail one comes across a rock large enough to sit on and rest the pack on at the same time. You look out to see the landscape, quiet, maybe a stream nearby surrounded by nature

. This is what it is about. Justin put it so succinctly: "it isn’t about the destination, it is about the journey".

Arriving at the destination though is a feat of accomplishment for someone like me. I’ve made it! I can do it! Living up to the expectations of the grandkids is what I must do. And yes we didn’t make it to all of the lakes we wanted to but we made it.

Then to eat good tasting food and to have the grandkids say they love the food, we know that we succeeded in our goals. To have others decide, after much laughing, that yes the wine was a great idea and that they will bring wine next time so that instead of a couple of sips of mine on one evening there will be a glass every evening.

Everyone except the little kids and me went on a hike to a ridge that overlooks the valley. I was impressed that Cam made it to the top. It took all his will to do this but he made it to stand on top of this bit of the world. Kids fell asleep, tired from the past 3 days of hiking and hiking. I enjoyed my time alone.